All the President's Men
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Mount Weather had survived the nuclear apocalypse, and with it, the culture of the world that had existed before the bombs fell. Culture that, in this case, included videogames. Or at least one particular series of them...


**All the President's Men**

There are certain things one stores in a place like Mount Weather in the event of nuclear armageddon. Among them is "culture."

Culture, Maya Vie knows, can be loosely defined as "the beliefs and values of a given group of people." Of course, in practicality, culture really just translates to "a shit load of books and art." And she knows it's a shit load, because in addition to working in Medical, she's helped look after the mountain's "shit load" at times.. But even that aside, there's certain other elements of culture that have been stored in Mount Weather's databases, accessible to all its people via its intranet system. Films. TV shows. Cartoons, And yes, videogames.

She's found herself playing videogames a lot recently – ever since Mount Weather detected a dropship descending from orbit. She has a terrible feeling that something bad is going to happen, and the people on that dropship, if they survive the Grounders, and the animals, and the radiation, and everything else, are going to find themselves in here without the ability to get out. So, caught between the knowledge that something bad might happen, and that if she keeps her head down she'll avoid the same fate as her mother, she takes solace in those games. Specifically, roleplaying games. And one set of roleplaying games known as _Fallout_.

They're kind of BS, really, when you think about the worldbuilding. The world didn't end in 2077 jackasses, it ended in 2052. Granted, it did end in nuclear war, but unlike the Capital Wasteland, the state of Washington has more forest now than it has in centuries. And while there are some mutants walking around, there's nothing on the scale of what's seen in these games. No super mutants, no ghouls, no talking trees…well, she's pretty sure that there aren't talking trees, but she's never been on the surface, and unless she trains for a ground unit, she never will. The only trees she's seen are from video, photos, or the paintings that President Wallace constantly paints before storing them in the complex's endless archives.

But there are some similarities, she reflects. She noticed it in the second game. She was reminded of it in the third. That feeling returned with a vengeance in _Fallout 5_, and _Fallout 6 _removed all doubt from her mind. If these games can be said to represent reality in any shape or form, it's that the people of Mount Weather are the equivalent of the Enclave.

It's not a nice feeling, knowing that you're allied with the bad guys. That as one makes their way across oil rigs, and fights in the shadow of a giant robot going on about liberty, and fights mutated squids in an underwater complex (damn, _Fallout 5 _could be weird at times), that her player characters are shooting people that are as close to your own as possible. The feeling is made worse when she reflects that in a way, maybe she's just compensating. Her mother tried to change the system, and she and so many others paid the price for it. Now she's just shooting imaginary guns at imaginary soldiers, knowing that real soldiers with real guns herd Grounders into the harvesting chamber, or worse, rely on Reavers to do their dirty work. Project Cerberus is well named, because indeed, the Reavers guard the gates of Hell. And while not Hades, she's certainly no Persephone either. She can't return to the land of the living. And her mother, her Demeter…she's long dead.

There's also the Enclave's contempt for anyone that doesn't match their standards of purity. Mutants, in this case. And she sees it every day. The look on people's faces as they talk about the Grounders. Savages. Sub-humans. Mutations. She knows that none of that is without some precedent. The Grounders are the descendants of those who survived the bombs. Those who lost their society to nuclear fire, and were forced to build civilization from the ground up. What they've created is an order of survival of the fittest. Back to nature, and all the dirt that entails. The myth of the noble savage is just that – a myth.

But the myth of the savage savage is just as mythical. And it is they, the people of Mount Weather, who use drugs and sonic technology to enslave Grounders, turning them into cannibals to guard the doors of Hell. It is they who harvest the blood of Grounders to filter the radiation out of their systems. It is they who maintain a harvest chamber, where any Grounder will reside until their dying day, before their body is dumped into the lower tunnels for the Reavers to feed upon. No-one in Mount Weather discusses the harvesting procedure openly. But for the savages at the gates? They'll discuss them all too readily. The people of the mountain consider themselves a shining beacon on the hill, but in reality, they're more like Bald Mountain or Mount Doom.

Yes, she's read the history of the United States. She's also watched _Fantasia _and read _Lord of the Rings_. More elements of "culture," created by better people than herself. Much as she would love to write an epic of good triumphing over evil, when her job involves cataloguing "culture," or doing decon work in Medical, there's only so much time for that. And by the long day's end, these days, she just puts on some headphones and plays videogames. Right now, _Fallout 8_, because there's no way in Hell she's going back to _Fallout 7_. God that game was terrible.

It works for awhile. But at breakfast, in a hall draped with flags of states that no longer exist, of a country that no longer exists, where the office of president is passed down by blood rather than ballot…she can't do it anymore. She stares at her oatmeal and thinks about cake. About the words of Marie Antoinette, and the fate that befell her because the monarchy couldn't change with the times. And more and more these days, she thinks about the people outside – not so much the Grounders, but the people who fell from the sky. The-

_What the heck?_

Outside the mess hall – Mount Weather Security are marching past. They've got body armour, they've got guns, and they're moving like they've got a purpose beyond patrolling just over 300 souls. Without thinking, she gets to her feet, and heads out into the outside corridor.

"Um…excuse me?"

They don't pay attention to her. Not that people usually pay attention to her anyway, but still…

"You alright Maya?"

A chill runs down her spine as she hears the voice. It's a chill that turns her spine into a spike as she turns around and smiles at the man behind her.

"Fine," she says.

Cage Wallace gives her a smile that reminds her of Dracula. "You sure?"

Dracula. Vampire. Nosferatu. All those terms are kind of appropriate for her people, she figures. They can't go out in the sunlight, and they're draining blood from mortals to keep themselves alive. Christ, the way President Wallace's son is smiling, she's surprised that fangs aren't growing out of his mouth right now.

"Fine. Absolutely fine." She glances round – the soldiers are out of sight. "Just wondering what that was about."

It's a bit of a risk – people like her, low grade, and with low trust, aren't meant to ask too many questions. Still, if it changes the subject, and it gives her some information, then hey, win win, right?

"Oh, that," Cage says. "We're moving on the dropship kids."

_Kids? _She looks back at Cage. "You mean the dropship people…they're kids?"

He shrugs. "Late teens, mostly. Well, least the ones the Grounders haven't killed yet."

"And we're saving them?"

His eyes twinkle. "Bringing them in at least."

"Oh." The chill that's taken Maya's spine spreads to her cheeks. And Cage must have noticed, because he puts a hand on her shoulder and asks, "you alright Maya? You're looking a little pale."

She nods. "Fine. Absolutely fine."

If he's Dracula, then she's Lucy, she reflects.

"You sure?"

Fangs. There's going to be fangs any second now.

"Yeah. Fine. Really fine." She takes a breath as she steadies her breathing, before gently removing Cage's hand from her shoulder. He just stands there.

"So…" She puts her hands behind her back and twists one foot behind the other. "We're bringing them in."

"Yep."

"To save them."

"Those are my father's orders." He frowns. "Why?"

He knows, she reflects. As in, he knows that she knows that he knows – that there's no way the Mountain Men are going to bring in a bunch of space people into Mount Weather out of the goodness of their hearts. Question is, what's the endgame?

"How many are out there?" Maya asks.

"Nearly fifty by last count."

Nearly fifty. It hits Maya like recycled air. Nearly fifty people. That would be an increase in population of over 15%. There's no way Mount Weather would take in that many extra people without gaining something in the process.

"Maya, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes. Fine. Absolutely fine." She forces a smile. "Anyway, great talking to you, but I've got to get to work."

"Isn't it your day off?"

How does this bastard even know? And why won't he stop smiling?

"Um, yes," she says. "I mean…other work."

"Other work?"

"Hobby work. I'm…writing a novel."

"A novel," Cage says blankly.

Maya nods. "Yep. It's called _All the President's Men_."

"Oh?" He looks genuinely interested. "What's it about?"

"Oh…presidents," she says. "And first ladies."

"Oh." He pauses for a moment. "Can I see it?"

"Um, sure. When it's ready."

"Which will be…when?"

She shrugs, and forces a wry smile that makes her want to gag. "Can't rush perfection, Mister Wallace."

She heads off, not waiting for a response. Asking herself why, of all the excuses she could come up with, she thought of writing a novel as her alibi. Surely as the teens outside Mount Weather are potentially doomed, she might have just doomed herself for Cage Wallace to always have an excuse to talk to her.

She picks up the pace and heads back to her room.

* * *

She's playing more of _Fallout 8 _when she hears the news – forty-eight kids have been put in the isolation ward. Decon procedures will begin immediately.

It's her father who tells her the news, and the way he speaks, the way he looks at her…she knows that he's thinking along the same lines that she is. President Wallace has a plan, and whatever it is, neither of them can be sure that it's going to be for the good of those teens.

She tells him that she doesn't want any tea, and that yes, she'll go to bed soon. Yes, she knows she has to get up early – big day tomorrow, what with decon and all. But until then, she can take solace in shooting at mutants and Enclave twats, safe in the knowledge that unless she grows a spine, she'll never have to take up a weapon of her own.

"Land of the free, home of the brave," she whispers. She leans back in her chair, watching a cutscene play out. "Wonderful."

She's not free. And she's not brave. Maybe one day. Like her mother, maybe she can do what is easy, rather than what is right. But until then...videogames. Culture. Life in the last bastion of the old world, otherwise erased by fire.

She groans as the mutants kill her (it's been over an hour since she last saved) and she shuts off her laptop. It's been a rotten end to a rotten day.

Of course, considering that the next day she'll end up with a shard of glass held against her throat by a crazy space girl, maybe having her save ruined isn't too bad, all things considered.

* * *

_A/N_

_So, when I wrote _Sky People_, I mentioned that watching season 2 of _The 100 _reminded me of _Avatar _(the movie). However, it wasn't the only thing it reminded me of - the other thing was _Fallout_._

_Let's see - a nuclear war occurs, and the remnants of the US government set up shop in Mount Weather/as the Enclave. They have a low opinion on those outside their domain, said people having been subjected to radiation/mutation. Despite low numbers, they're able to maintain their edge through advanced technology that no-one has access to. Oh, and they're both led by a president who...isn't the nicest person in the world in either setting._

_Are these generic similarities? Well, yes, but drabbled this up at least. Because I figure if _The 100 _was an RPG, then someone along the line would likely have given Maya the chance to get a happy ending rather than dying horribly. Or, I dunno, if Clarke is the player character, does an NPC's arc with another NPC (Jasper) matter?_

_Think about it... 0_0_


End file.
